


Home and Heart

by elem (elem44)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 03:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13848978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elem44/pseuds/elem
Summary: Chakotay and Janeway have a moment in the snow. Set somewhere in the Delta Quadrant around Season 5.





	Home and Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the VAMB Winter Picnic Prose 2017 in the Nice category. It won 2nd place. Prompt – Winter.

Chakotay squinted through the swirl of snow, searching the area on the far side of Voyager’s starboard landing strut for his captain. Stuffing his hands deep into his pockets, he crunched through the ice and snow towards the lone figure seated on a small outcropping of rock.

At the sound of his approach, Kathryn opened her eyes and looked up at him. She raised a brow in question.

He smiled. “Tuvok said I would find you here.”

“Does he need me for something?”

Chakotay shook his head and flicked the collar of his all-weather jacket up around his ears. “No. The refit is on schedule and all’s quiet.”

“Good.” Kathryn shuffled over and patted the boulder beside her, inviting him to take a seat.

He did so and hunkered down to brace himself against the cold wind blowing up from the valley below. “Nice weather we’re having.”

Kathryn chuckled and then sighed. “I haven’t seen snow for years and thought if I closed my eyes it might remind me of winter in Indiana. But, it’s nothing like home.”

Chakotay resisted the urge to point out that Indiana was over thirty thousand light years away and this barren rock of a planet, deep in the Delta Quadrant, couldn’t have been farther in distance or further from the reality of those frosty winters of her Indiana childhood.

Instead, he made his own observation. “It reminds me a little of the mountains on Trebus. Cold, desolate and unforgiving.”

She nodded, somewhat distractedly. “Unlike this, the land around Bloomington is flat and almost featureless under a blanket of snow. You can look for miles in any direction and all you see is white. As a child, I thought it was the most magical thing in the world.” She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees and her chin on her clenched hands. “Once we knew winter was on its way, Phoebe and I would be so impatient waiting for the snow to come. The clouds would hang dark and low in the sky for what seemed like years to a ten and a six year old, and then one morning we’d wake up and it was though someone had thrown a thick layer of icing over the world.” She sat up and shrugged, laughing a little self-consciously. “That’s how it seemed to us, anyway.”

It was his turn to nod. “I’d like to see it one day.”

She turned to him, a hint of sadness in her eyes even though the corners of her mouth had tilted upwards in a smile. “I’d like to show it to you.”

“It’s a date then.”

Her eyebrows shot up and she huffed good-naturedly, but didn’t say anything.

He grinned and patted her knee. It was a comradely gesture; one of the few breaches of propriety that they allowed themselves. With seven long years of travel behind them and many more ahead, the grim reality of their positions as the command team meant that they rarely felt the warmth of human contact. These brief touches were their concession to the solitariness of their lives, and for Chakotay, they were as necessary as the air he breathed.

Still caught up in the memories of home, Kathryn examined her gloves, smoothing the backs of each in turn and then running the tip of her index finger along the exposed stitching. “Phoebe and I would spend hours outside after the first heavy fall. We’d build snowmen of all shapes and sizes, create mazes in the deeper drifts and dig snow caves, imagining ourselves as intrepid adventurers, battling mortal enemies and surviving on our wits. It was a lot of fun.”

Chakotay grinned, his mind filled with visions of miniature Kathryn Janeway, fiery-haired and bold, bossing her younger sister about as they laughed and played. It was a heart-warming picture but different to the one she’d hinted at during their stay on New Earth.

He spoke without thinking. “I thought you spent all your time studying quantum mechanics.”

He felt her stiffen beside him and regretted his words as soon as they left his lips. He could have kicked himself. He’d broken their unspoken pact of never mentioning New Earth or their time there.

He often thought of those days; mostly with fondness, but also with some regret. He’d never spoken a word to Kathryn about how he felt and she’d done the same. Not for the first time, he wondered why that was so.

Casting a sidelong glance in her direction, only to see a pained frown creasing her brow; he wished he’d kept his mouth shut. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her more distress. Her bout of homesickness had already chipped into her veneer of resolute calm and he silently cursed his poor timing.

They’d been on good terms for several months now, having weathered several potentially devastating confrontations with Delta Quadrant adversaries without the exchange of harsh words or disagreements over tactics. But he feared he’d ruined everything by sticking his foot smack-bang into the middle of the New Earth sacred cow.

Damn it!

He made a move to stand but her hand darted out and gripped his shoulder, stopping him. “I loved studying quantum mechanics, but I loved the first snow of the season even more.” She hadn’t moved her hand from his shoulder and he hardly dared breathe in case she realized and snatched it away. It would break his heart if she did.

She continued with her reminiscences. “Phoebe and I are so different in nature, but while frolicking in the snow and playing our imaginary games, we were closer than at any other time. I miss her and those days.”

Her hand slid down from his shoulder but instead of breaking contact, she linked her arm through his and sidled a little closer. He could feel the welcome warmth of her where they touched.

They sat in companionable silence for several minutes before she spoke again and surprised him with what must have been a continuation of her silent thoughts. “I hold my memories of New Earth just as dearly. It was an extraordinary experience and I miss it and who we were there.”

Chakotay’s chest tightened and he felt weighed down with the happy/sad memories of their time together on that far away planet. He’d seen such promise for them there but it had all been for naught after their ‘rescue’. Any tender feelings they may have nurtured for one another had been abandoned on their return to Voyager. The onerous burden of command and their responsibility to their crew took priority. The specter of her then-fiancé, Mark, also loomed large and Kathryn was nothing, if not loyal. He could only respect her for that.

He’d understood her reasoning within the parameters she’d set - he was a professional, after all - but he’d grieved the loss of Kathryn and, in a small way, resented ‘the Captain’ for taking her out of his reach. It was a foolish notion, they were one and the same person, but he’d seen glimpses of the real Kathryn Janeway during those heady days and he missed her still.

“One can’t go back, Kathryn.”

She shrugged. “And I wouldn’t want to. Who knows what might have happened to us, alone and isolated on that planet without backup or support. One of us could have been injured or killed – we very nearly were during that plasma storm - and what would have happened to the person left behind? It was something I often thought about when we were there and, to be honest, Chakotay, it was the overriding reason why I hesitated to take our relationship further.”

He blinked and slowly turned towards her. This wasn’t at all where he’d thought their conversation would take them.

Astonished, he asked, “You considered it then?”

“Not only considered it, I wanted to.”

He frowned. “I always thought that your fiancé, Mark was the reason.”

She sighed, quietly but with feeling and shook her head. “No, not really. He was a plausible excuse, though.” She glanced in his direction, a wry smile on her lips before she turned away again and stared into the distance. “We’d been in the Delta quadrant for over two years by then and I knew that Starfleet would have considered Voyager missing and her crew presumed dead. Mark and I had an understanding – if something happened to me, he was to move on. As awful as it is to admit, he wasn’t really a consideration in my decision. I’m a realist and all too aware of the pitfalls. I wouldn’t have survived if anything had happened to you and if I’d died, I couldn’t have borne the thought of leaving you all alone. I refused do that to you, and to myself.”

Chakotay didn’t know what to say, but nodded slowly, trying hard to understand her reasoning. In a way, she was right, but also so very, very wrong. Would it have been any easier to lose a friend rather than a lover? As far as he was concerned, the devastation would have been just as shattering, if not worse. The thought of losing her without having loved her would have tainted that loss with regret so deep that it would have destroyed him. He had tried to tell her how he felt, in that roundabout way, couching his feelings in the guise of an invented legend. She’d seen through his deception, but he knew she felt the connection too.

Sitting beside her, in the cold on this insignificant planet, light years from New Earth and home, his regrets doubled in intensity and his heart felt like sawdust in his chest.

What wasted lives they were leading. Couldn’t she see that?!

A starburst of anger flared in his middle, but he tamped it down, and did what he’d so often done and agreed with her. “I understand.”

She gripped his hand, her gloved fingers weaving through his. “But you’re angry with me. I can tell.”

He gave her hand a quick squeeze of reassurance but didn’t deny the accusation. “A bit, perhaps. My perspective is somewhat different to yours.”

“In what way?”

She had swiveled towards him and was watching him; her eyes filled with earnest curiosity.

Should he give her an answer that would save her from the burden of his emotions or, tell her the truth? He turned from her intense gaze and let his eyes wander over the harsh landscape and, for a maudlin moment, likened it to his inner self – barren, cold and bleak. But as they sat there together in a cocoon of shared warmth surrounded by snow and ice, he decided that the truth was something she needed to hear and he needed to tell it – for both their sakes.

It was worth the risk.

“I loved you, Kathryn. I still do and I think we would be amazing together.” He felt her arm jerk against his but she didn’t pull away. For that, he was grateful. He was laying his heart on the line and needed to feel the supporting strength of her against him if he was going to do this right - or at all. “I think you felt it too – I know that you’re aware of the connection between us. Rest assured, I would never push you or demand anything from you that you were unwilling to give, but I think you’re wrong about your fear of how we would react to each other’s loss.”

She frowned; the line between her brows furrowing deeply as she contemplated his words, but she didn’t interrupt.

He went on. “What would be worse, do you think? To love someone and - should the worst happen - live on with the joyful memories of time spent together, or to have to live with the regret of having loved but never acknowledging or acting upon those feelings? We both know the pain of loss but once the raw grief is gone, those memories can be succor for the soul for those left behind. Why would people fall in love and risk the hurt if it wasn’t worth it? Love is always worth the risk.”

“Do you really think that?”

He couldn’t look at her. His soul had been laid bare and he feared what he would see. He’d seen the shutters go down and her frantic retreat far too often over the years.

He simply nodded. “I believe it, wholeheartedly.”

She was silent a long time and he waited for her to withdraw but, instead, she gripped his arm with almost desperate strength; so tightly that his hand was starting to go numb. But still, he waited.

“I think you’re right.”

It was barely a whisper but for Chakotay, it might well have been shouted from the mountaintops. Now, he took the risk of looking at her.

Her eyes were bright with the shimmer of tears but her face was relaxed and, as his eyes met hers, all the tension drained from her body.

He was still wary, though. “You do?”

She nodded and her head tilted towards him until it was resting against his shoulder. She took a deep breath before looking up and into his eyes. “It’s been almost five years since our time on New Earth and I’ve learned a lot since then.” She shook her head and gave a wry huff. “So very much.”

He nodded in agreement. The learning curve for all of them had been steep.

She shuffled around so she was facing him, her arm sliding from beneath his, but she didn’t loosen her grip on his hand. “I was sitting here earlier thinking of home and saying my goodbyes. It’s taken me all this time to realize that this,” She nodded towards Voyager. “Is my life now and I _have_ to move forward with it or what’s the point of living. There isn’t going to be a quick trip home for us and no amount of wishing is going to make that wormhole materialize out of the ether. So, I’m asking for your help.”

“There’s no need to ask, Kathryn. I’m here if you need anything. Anything at all.”

“Most of all, I need you.”

He nodded slowly, elated but completely dumbfounded.

She tensed slightly and, in a crisp, no-nonsense voice, asked, “That’s if you still want to move forward. I’ll understand if you don’t.”

Chakotay stifled a bark of laughter – aware of how much articulating those insecurities had cost her. A great boulder of joy plonked into the middle of his chest and all he could do was grin at her. “Oh, I still want to. You have _no_ idea how much.”

Kathryn’s shoulders relaxed and she shifted until she was wedged beside him once more, her head resting against his shoulder, and hugging his arm tight to her side. “I’d hoped you’d say that.” She took a deep breath and let it out in a contented sigh that seemed to come all the way from her toes. “I’m not on duty until tomorrow. Do you have any plans for this evening?”

“No. Actually, the reason I came to find you was to see if you were free for dinner. You are, I take it?”

“Pretty much free for the rest of my life.”

“Good. It so happens that I am too. Care to join me?”

He could feel her laughter and then she eased back, her hand snaking out to cup his cheek. She drew his face towards hers.

They kissed.

Cold lips to cold lips, but the instant her mouth opened under his, the warmth of Kathryn flooded him, drowning out the frigid wind and heating him from his heart outwards. His fingers caressed her neck, his thumb stroking along her jaw. She shuddered gently as his lips followed the same trail to that vulnerable spot beneath her ear; the one that had tormented him from the moment he’d sat beside her on the command deck.

Kathryn eased back, and gripping his hand, pulled it to her lips and kissed it. “I think I’ve had enough of the snow and cold for now. It requires far too many layers of clothing and what I have in mind necessitates the removal of the aforementioned.”

Chakotay laughed and he could feel a blush - of all things - heat his cheeks. When was the last time he’d blushed? He couldn’t remember but his mind had leapfrogged past the preliminaries and all he could think of was Kathryn naked in his arms and in his – or her – bed. Fortunately, gauging by the look on her face, she was once again entirely in tune with his thoughts.

He stood and reached for her. She placed her hand in his without hesitation, and allowed him to pull her to her feet and into his arms.

Without relinquishing his hand, she eased up on her toes and rested her cheek against his. “Time to go home, Chakotay?”

Leaning back, he met her resolute gaze before he kissed her forehead gently. He understood her words and the depth of their meaning.

This was home and she’d finally accepted it. Here with him and on Voyager, and wherever their lives might take them.

He gave her hand a firm squeeze but didn’t let go as he tapped his combadge.

“Voyager, two to beam up.”

 

_fin_


End file.
